


Baby Steps

by my_angry_angel



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:59:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_angry_angel/pseuds/my_angry_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili has to teach Kili to walk again after he's injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a picture (not by me) which can be found here: http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/44253191198  
> Edit: Added a good deal more, including how Kili came to be injured, as well as following the end of the original.

As princes in exile, both Fili and Kili had been trained to fight since they were young. Despite their extensive training, and for all the skirmishes they’d been in, they hadn’t seen a true battle until the Battle of Five Armies. The young princes tried to stay together, but the chaos quickly swept them away from the rest of the company. Looking back, Fili couldn’t remember more than snatches of the battle. An arrow sprouting from a goblin’s chest just in time to save Fili’s life, a Warg taking two men’s heads of with a swipe of its paw, and of course blood. Sound, too. The blood and the noise he remembered most.

He caught glimpses of the rest of the company throughout the battle, all but Bilbo. But with that magic ring of his, Fili knew he wasn’t likely to see much of the Hobbit during the battle. Which, honestly, was fine by him. Master Baggins didn’t know how to fight, and invisibility greatly reduced his odds of being injured. Not that Fili had time to worry about anyone else; he had his hands full just staying alive. He got a brief respite from fighting and whirled around to look for his family. His blood froze when he found them. 

Thorin was on the ground, lying too still for comfort; Kili stood over him, desperately fighting off a quartet of goblins. Even over the distance between them, Fili could see that his brother’s quiver was empty, leaving the prince to fight with just his sword. While Kili was perfectly capable of using a sword, he greatly preferred a bow. The goblins kept him busy enough that he couldn’t strike a killing blow to any one of them, and he was visibly tiring. They were toying with him, Fili realized as one of them gave Kili a nasty gash down the arm.

He could see Kili’s lips form his name in a desperate scream, Fili started running toward his kin. With his attention focused on the goblins, the younger Dwarf didn’t see the Warg creeping up behind him. He was still too far away for his brother to hear him over the din of the battle, but that didn’t stop Fili from screaming Kili’s name as the Warg’s jaws closed around his leg, sweeping the prince off his feet.

Fili was close enough that he could hear his brother’s shrieks of agony, followed by a sickening crunch as the Warg shook Kili from side to side. Its work done, it dropped the Dwarf and bounded off to wreak havoc elsewhere, leaving the goblins behind to finish off both king and prince. Fortunately, Fili was close enough now that he was able to run two of them through with his twin swords before the goblins even knew he was there.

The other two turned away from his fallen kin and stalked after the older prince. Fili let them advance a few steps, drawing them far enough away that they wouldn’t trample Thorin and Kili, but close enough that he could go to his family’s aid if need be. He was exhausted and terrified for his brother, whose screams had quieted, but he also had anger on his side. The first goblin took a clumsy swing, missed, and met its end at Fili’s sword. The second was more cautious, and they traded blows for nearly a minute before Fili finally managed to slip under its club and gut it.

As it lay dying, Fili dashed over to his brother and uncle. Thorin was awake and struggling to sit up. He had a nasty wound on the side of his head, and blood coated half of his face but the fact that he was awake at all alleviated a lot of Fili’s worry for him. Kili, on the other hand, was unconscious and bleeding from a dozen places. Most pressing, however, was his leg. There were the puncture wounds from the Warg’s teeth, but those weren’t the cause of the pool of blood seeping into the ground.

A hand span above Kili’s knee, several bloody inches of bone stuck out, ending in a jagged break. Blood poured out of the wound, leaving the prince ashen and cold. “Oin,” Fili whispered the healer’s name, then turned around to bellow it across the field, his voice desperate.

“He can’t hear you, lad,” Thorin said softly, the words slurred. “It’s up to us.” He hooked an arm under one of Kili’s. “Get his other arm. Help me get him out of here.” Fili did as his uncle told him and started dragging his brother away. The jostling drew a long moan from the younger Dwarf, and instantly Fili knelt at his side.

“It’s okay, Kee,” he whispered, cupping his brother’s cheek. “I’m here. Go back to sleep.” The order was useless, however, as the dark haired Dwarf slipped back into unconsciousness. They started pulling him away again, and this time made it to the trees before Thorin fell to his knees, clasping his head. Fili moved to his uncle’s side and eased him back against a tree, murmuring encouragement in Khuzdul. He made sure they were both as comfortable as possible, which included tightening his belt around Kili’s thigh to try to staunch the blood, then took a few steps away and squatted down to watch the battle.

#

It wasn’t long before the Orcs and Goblins lay dead on the field. The allied army had taken heavy losses, but Fili couldn’t see a single enemy in retreat. He returned to his uncle’s side to tell him of the victory, and found the king dozing. Fili decided to let him sleep and checked on his brother. The younger Dwarf was, if at all possible, in worse condition than before. Fili could feel the heat from his forehead an inch away. His leg was still oozing blood, so the older Dwarf tightened his belt around Kili’s leg a little more.

Both Kili and Thorin needed a healer, but Fili was reluctant to leave them alone, not without telling them where he was going. He was loathe to wake either of them, however, so he pulled a dagger from his bracer and scratched some runes into a nearby tree, telling them he was going to find Oin. He doubted either of them would wake, but he wanted them to know in case they did.

He was overjoyed to find the others of the company gathered before Erebor’s gates, none of them worse than Thorin or Kili. Even Gandalf was there, helping the old healer administer herbs. Rather than say what was going on, Fili signed to Oin in iglishmek; it was easier than trying to get the near deaf old Dwarf to hear him. Oin gathered up his poultices and the two started back to where Fili had left his kin.

Fili heard his brother’s yells well before they got to the trees, and picked up the pace. When Oin could hear them as well, his brow furrowed and he started mixing some of his herbs even as they walked. The thick mixture was done by the time they entered the clearing, and Oin scraped it onto a wooden spoon. Kili was writhing on the ground, letting out ear-shattering shrieks. Thorin was trying to hold his nephew down, but his efforts seemed to be for naught. Fili and Oin added their strength to the effort, and managed to pin him to the ground.

“Come on, laddie,” the old Dwarf murmured, trying to calm the prince down. He slipped the spoon into Kili’s mouth, then pressed a hand under his chin, holding the younger Dwarf’s mouth closed as he slowly drew the spoon out. “Swallow, boy,” he said soothingly, still holding Kili’s mouth shut. Whatever Oin had given him, it must have tasted awful, because the young prince tossed his head from side to side, trying to shake off the old Dwarf’s hand. But the healer persisted, and finally Kili swallowed. Within seconds, he was asleep again, allowing the others to relax.

Oin immediately went to work on the king, applying a pungent smelling poultice to the side of his head. That was followed by a large bandage, before the old healer made Thorin strip down to his underclothes. Every tiny cut was treated with the salve, though most Oin left unbandaged. When he was finally convinced that he’d done all he could for his king, Oin turned to the prince. “Get me sticks, lad,” the healer ordered, and Fili scrambled to obey. He knew what the healer needed, and quickly returned with two stout, straight lengths of wood. Just in time for him to see Oin push the last of the bone back beneath the flesh. Oin applied a different ointment to the wound before binding the sticks to Kili’s leg with a thick layer of bandages.

While he worked, Fili hunted for more sticks to make litters. With his leg in such a condition, Kili wouldn’t be walking any time soon, and Thorin didn’t look to be up to much walking either. He just hoped he and Oin were strong enough to drag the injured pair back to the others. He used his and Thorin’s coats for the litters, and finished shortly before Oin sat up. “I’ve done all I can,” he declared, sounding every day of his hundred and sixty seven years. “The rest is up to him.”

Fili nodded and they rolled the injured dwarves onto the litters. He took up Thorin’s litter, leaving Oin to pull the smaller and lighter Kili. After the exertion of the battle, they both needed frequent breaks, but eventually they made it within shouting distance of the company. The least injured among them barreled toward the quartet to help shoulder the burden. In the time since Fili had been there last, the company had moved back indoors, so Thorin was taken to his chamber. Kili, on both Fili and Thorin’s insistence, was placed in a tiny chamber between theirs, rather than his chosen room down the hall. It was too small for a fire, but it held heat well, keeping it warm.

Once the injured royals were resting comfortably, someone--he was so exhausted that he wasn’t sure who--dragged Fili down to the kitchen. There was a large fire burning in the grate and Bombur, Mahal bless him, had prepared a pot of stew, from which he was serving the others. Fili ate ravenously, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

#

When next he opened them, he was in his room. The slit high up in the wall told him it was morning. He lay there, hoping that the day before had been a dream. When he moved, however, he knew it had actually happened. The soreness in his muscles couldn’t have come from anywhere else. He was in his underclothes, blood still matted in his hair and beard. In a perfect world, his clothes would be laundered and mended. But he’d learned long ago that the world was far from perfect. It didn’t disappoint him as he looked to the side and saw his worn and stained clothes draped over a chair.

The selfish part of him wanted nothing more than to lie in bed all day and recover from the battle. But he had responsibilities; while Thorin was incapacitated, Fili was, for all intents and purposes, King Under the Mountain. Not to mention his deep desire to check on his brother and uncle. So, ignoring his protesting body, he dragged himself out of bed and dressed. Bofur was leaning against the wall opposite Fili’s door, whittling at a piece of wood.

“Oin wants t’see ya,” the toymaker said without looking up. He nodded to the room where they’d laid Kili the night before. Though it had only been in use as a sick room for a few hours, the room was stuffy and smelled of illness. Kili was laying deathly still, blankets piled on top of him. If it weren’t for the rattle of his breathing, Fili would have worried that his brother was dead.

“How is he?” the prince asked, a little louder than was appropriate in a sick room, but loud enough that the old healer could hear him.

“No worse than yesterday,” Oin answered without looking up. He didn’t need to add that Kili was no better. “Didn’t call you here to talk about him though.” The healer finally turned to face Fili. “Never got a chance to look after you yesterday.” The prince nodded and stripped out of his soiled garments. Oin applied the pungent salve to Fili’s wounds and bandaged a few of them before allowing the younger Dwarf to dress. “He’s a strong lad,” Oin said, following Fili’s stare. “Give him a day or two, he’ll be right as rain.”

#

Despite Oin’s assurances, Kili wasn’t right as rain within a few days. He spent most of the time unconscious, burning up with fever. When he was asleep, he tossed and turned restlessly, moaning and mumbling incoherently. He woke for minutes at a time, long enough for Fili to drip a few spoonfuls of weak broth into his mouth. He spent most of the time talking to people who weren't there.

Fili refused to leave his brother’s side, even to sleep. He tried to keep the younger dwarf’s wound clean, but despite his efforts, angry red lines traced out from the wound on his leg. Blood poisoning, Oin called it. The healer continued administering his herbs, despite their lack of effect. After four days with no improvement, Oin called Fili into Thorin’s room. The king was recovering well, though he was still weak.

“The lad’s dying,” the healer said bluntly. “There’s a sickness in his blood, and my herbs aren’t stopping it.”

Thorin took a few seconds to despair, then schooled his face into impassivity. “Is there nothing you can do?”

“The sickness comes from his leg,” Oin answered. “The only way I can think to stop it is to take his leg off. In the absence of his mother, I leave it to the two of you to make the decision.”

Fili and Thorin discussed the option for a few seconds before the king turned back to the healer. “He’ll die without it?”

“Within days,” the healer said, nodding somberly.

“And his chances if we agree?”

“Better. Not perfect, but he’ll have a chance.” Both Thorin and Fili could see the anguish in the other’s face. They didn’t want to see Kili go through life as a cripple, but neither did they want him dead. Thorin nodded slowly, and a few seconds later, Fili mirrored the action. “Tonight,” Oin said, nodding. “I’ll make the arrangements.” When neither royal said anything, the healer took his leave.

“He’ll hate us,” Fili whispered, not able to meet his uncle’s gaze.

“So long as he’s alive to hate us, I’m willing to accept his hatred,” Thorin answered. “Go see to him. When he wakes, tell him of the plan. He deserves to know.”  
Fili nodded and returned to his place by his brother’s side. The room was nearly unbearable in its heat, and Fili was sweating within seconds of entering. Kili’s exposed flesh was covered in a sheen of sweat as well, but violent shivers wracked his body, and he’d taken to coughing in his sleep, so hard he’d nearly fallen from the bed on more than one occasion.

The prince didn’t wake at all that day, and by the time the others came to gather them at sundown, his shivering had stopped, leaving him deathly still. Fili trailed behind the company as they carried his brother down to the forge. Thorin walked with him, though neither spoke.

The forge was sweltering, and an oppressive pall hung over the group as they gathered around the furnace. All manner of weapons were laid in the flames, the metal glowing red-hot. They laid Kili on a low table set up near the furnace, and stripped him bare. Fili couldn’t help but notice how his brother, always slender for a Dwarf, was even thinner now, his ribs prominent on his chest. Oin marked a line above the wound with a stick of charcoal, and Dwalin gripped the haft of a large axe, though he didn’t pull it from the flames yet.

Oin directed the rest of the company to take up two weapons each, and be ready to follow his command. With a nod from the healer, Dwalin lifted the axe and swung with all his might, severing the prince’s leg in a single blow, right on the charcoal line. As soon as the warrior pulled the axe away, Oin was there, pressing his glowing blades to the stump of Kili’s leg. The others followed suit, cauterizing the wound. The prince stirred and tried to jerk away from the burning metal, but between the twelve of them, they were able to hold him in place.

Once the bleeding stopped, half the company took Kili back up to the sickroom, while the other half wrapped his severed leg in a tattered cloak and took it to the burial hall. Fili, of course, went with his brother, taking up his customary place near his bed. Thorin joined his nephews and together, they kept watch over Kili through the night. The prince slept uneasily, even worse than he had since the battle, tossing and turning, moaning and shouting. Toward morning, however, he quieted, though he occasionally whispered nonsensically in Khuzdul.

Oin’s ministrations started having an effect after the amputation, and two days later, Kili’s fever broke. The next morning, he woke long enough to eat an entire day’s worth of rations. Fili was worried about how Kili would react to the loss of his leg, but he didn’t say anything. He just ate and went back to sleep. The next day, he woke up again, longer this time. He was in the middle of chewing on some hard bread when he suddenly stopped. Not just his jaw, but his entire body went still. Fili could practically see the wheels turning as his brother tried to figure out what was wrong.

“A Warg got a hold of you,” Fili said softly. He wanted to say more, but Kili threw the blanket aside and stared at what used to be two symmetrical legs. Now, his right leg was gone After a minute, the dwarf sank back down and lay there staring blankly at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Kee,” Fili said quietly. “It was that or lose you.” The younger Dwarf didn’t respond, however.

It was three days before Kili said anything. During that time, Fili put together a pair of crutches using bits of wood and metal he had gathered. He knew it would be a while before Kili was strong enough to use them, but he had to do something to keep his mind off his brother’s pain.

“What are you making?” Kili asked suddenly. Fili had nodded off at his side, but woke instantly when he heard his brother’s voice.

“What?” he asked, brushing his hair out of his face. When Kili repeated the question, Fili was taken aback. It hadn’t been the question he was expecting. But at least he was talking. “Something for you,” he said as he moved to fluff his brother’s pillow and rearrange his blanket. “To help you...walk. When you’re ready.”

Kili nodded slowly. He shifted slightly, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else just then. “I...Can I try now?” he whispered after a moment.

“If you think you can.” Fili wasn’t sure his brother had the strength, but he could tell it was important to him. He moved to Kili’s side and helped him sit up. He slowly pushed the blanket aside and helped Kili turn, swinging his leg over the side of the bed. “Okay,” he said, retrieving the crutches from where they were leaning near his chair. “This part goes under your arm, and you hold on right here.” He placed the right one, the more important one, where it needed to go then let Kili figure out the left crutch.

“Good,” he said after making a few adjustments. “Now,” he stood and turned to face his younger brother, “when I say so, stand up.” He gripped under Kili’s arms. “Ready?” The younger dwarf nodded, his jaw clenched. “Stand.” While Kili pushed off the bed, Fili lifted, taking most of his brother’s weight. “That’s it. Take it slow.” He slowly shifted Kili’s weight off of himself. “Try to take a step.” It took the younger dwarf a few seconds to figure out how. He nearly fell and threw a hand out to grab his brother’s shoulder.

Fili quickly moved to support the younger dwarf, once again taking most of his weight. “Careful,” he warned. “Do you want to lay back down?” Kili nodded, his head hanging. Even the minor effort had exhausted him. Fili led his brother back to bed, practically carrying him. “It’s okay,” he whispered, tucking the blanket around Kili’s chin. “I taught you how to walk once, I can do it again.”

#

“I can’t do it!” The yell rang through the halls following a loud clatter of wood and metal on stone. Thorin poked his head into Kili’s room and found his younger nephew on the floor, Fili trying to help him up. The crutches were on the floor, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Kili had fallen. It hadn’t been the first time, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But the young prince was determined to learn how to use the crutches.

“C’mon, Kee,” Fili said, hoisting his brother back to his foot. “You can do it.” The older brother set Kili upright, then balanced him while he retrieved the one crutch within reach. Kili situated the crutch under his arm, then hobbled after his brother to the other one, which had skidded up against the wall.

“Let me!” Kili yelled when his brother held the crutch out to him. Fili was apparently too slow setting it back down, so the younger Dwarf actually hit it out of his brother’s hand. “I need to learn to do it myself!” While Thorin couldn’t see his nephew’s face, he knew all too well the determination that would be there. It was the same resolve that had been there when the boy learned to shoot. He didn’t have a teacher then, either, but he’d managed it.

Fili nodded and took a step back. “Okay, Kili,” he murmured softly. Like with his other nephew, Thorin could tell what the lad was thinking. Concern for his brother was first and foremost, but beneath that there was a current of frustration and hurt. The king didn’t blame Fili for being frustrated. This wasn’t the first time Kili had snapped at him. Thorin had never been the target of Kili’s anger, and even he was getting frustrated with it. But nor could Thorin get angry with Kili for being on edge. He was, after all, a grown Dwarf, and he couldn’t take more than a few steps without help. It had to be hard on him, being so utterly dependent on his brother.

Thorin couldn’t watch Kili struggle for more than a few seconds before he sighed and withdrew from the doorway, allowing it to swing closed behind him. Fili turned just as door closed, and the king saw his face long enough for recognition to register there. He returned to his room and sank down in one of the chairs with a soft sigh. His head no longer hurt, but he had problems with his memory, and sometimes he failed to make an obvious connection between two facts. But his people needed him.

He’d sent the talking ravens that lived on the mountainside out with messages to his people. None of the dwarves had returned yet, but scattered as they were across Middle Earth, that wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t been seated more than a minute before a tentative knock came at his door. “Enter,” he called, and wasn’t surprised when Fili walked in. “What can I do for you, sister-son?” he asked, motioning to the chair across from his.

The younger Dwarf sat down, staring at his clasped hands while he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he murmured, “Why did you leave, Uncle? You never stay when he’s trying to walk.”

The question took Thorin by surprise, and it took him a moment to figure out the least selfish way of voicing his reason. “What use is there in watching him struggle?”

“Do you think what I do is useless?” Fili asked dejectedly, looking up to his uncle.

Thorin opened his mouth to answer, but stopped and looked up quickly as a familiar voice cried out in sudden fear, followed by a rattling of wood and metal.

#

Despite Kili’s wishes, Fili helped his brother back up and over to the bed. “Wait here, Kee,” he murmured, tucking the blankets around him. “I’ll be right back.”  
Kili wanted to point out that he couldn’t have left the room if he’d wanted to, but Fili was already gone. Part of him wanted to find out why his brother had left in such a hurry. Unfortunately for him, that was also the stubborn side of his personality. With a soft sigh, he sat up and grabbed his crutches. It was the first time he’d tried this by himself. Steeling himself, he stood slowly. After taking a moment to find his balance, he started off. It was actually easier without Fili’s concerned gaze constantly on him.

The door was a little tricky to negotiate, but eventually he got it. He could hear his brother and uncle conversing through the slightly ajar door just down the hall. As he approached his uncle’s room, he made out their words. “...use is there in watching him struggle?” he heard Thorin ask.

Kili almost missed his brother’s reply, and had to lean his ear against the door to hear it. “What I do is useless.” The weariness in Fili’s voice was unmistakable.

Dashing angry tears from his eyes, Kili turned and tried to hurry away. In his haste, he tripped, and fell with a yell of surprise and a crash of his crutches. Within seconds, Thorin and Fili were in the hallway, his brother moving to help him up. “Leave me be!” Kili yelled, pushing Fili’s hands away. He could tell he’d hurt his brother, but the older Dwarf had hurt him as well. “Just get away from me!”

It took him several seconds to get back up, both hands clutching desperately at the one crutch he’d managed to keep when he fell. The other had skittered across the floor, and the distance seemed impossible to cover by himself. On instinct, he looked over to his brother and uncle, only to find that Thorin had disappeared. The king’s absence steeled Kili’s resolve and he hobbled down the hall after his other crutch. He could feel Fili’s eyes boring into his back as he fought to stay balanced while walked, but he refused to look back to him.

Finally, he managed to reach his other crutch and bent down to retrieve it. This was the easy part; he’d figured out how to do it earlier, though Fili had hauled him up before he could actually grab his crutch. Getting back up was more difficult, but he managed it, and started off to his room. Bifur rounded the corner, and Kili could practically see the wheels turning in the mad old Dwarf’s head before ducking into his room.

After Kili laid down and dragged one of the blankets over his lap, Bifur stepped into the room. Without sparing the prince a glance, the toymaker took up one of the crutches and started whittling away at the end. He paused several times to study it critically and then, when he seemed satisfied with his work, started on the other one. He was shortening them, Kili realized when he looked at the growing pile of shavings on the floor. When the toymaker finished the second crutch, he put them both back exactly where he’d found them, growled incoherently, and left the room, leaving Kili incredibly confused.

#

The next day, Fili returned and, without saying a word about the day before, helped Kili out of bed. Bifur’s modifications helped immensely, a fact that Fili was quick to remark on. “Bifur cut some off,” Kili explained. “Not much off either, but I guess he knew what he was doing.” The prince was still weak from his illness, and when it started showing, Fili insisted he lay down.

“Don’t worry, Kee,” the other Dwarf murmured, tucking the blankets around him. “You’ll get stronger.” Fili leaned down and pressed his lips to Kili’s forehead. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

As promised, Fili returned the next day, and every day after that. They made small steps, both literally and figuratively. Every day, Kili was able to stay out of bed longer and go a little bit farther. He’d even managed to take a few steps without his brother’s help. But despite his progress, the young Dwarf slipped into a deep depression. Only Fili and Thorin knew him well enough to see it, and neither of them could get him to talk about it, let alone bring him out of it. Still, Fili stayed by his brother’s side as much as he could. He hoped his presence would help cheer Kili up, but despite his best efforts, the younger Dwarf remained depressed. 

Until one day, when Fili burst through the door, excitement written in his features. “Nadadith,” he said breathlessly, “come quickly! There’s something I have to show you!” They’d just made another attempt at walking, not ten minutes before, so Kili wasn’t up to much of anything, especially not quickly. He could get around the room by himself, but not very quickly, and the effort almost immediately drained him. 

Earlier, he’d heard a hushed celebration, but silence since then, so he suspected the company was up to something. Fili’s presence just confirmed his guess. “I’m tired, Fee,” he said, shaking his head. It was the truth, though not the whole truth. He didn’t want to put up with the awkward stares and silences that he knew would meet him outside. He got quite enough of that when they came in to see him and his missing leg was covered by a blanket. With his trousers hanging loose for everyone to see, he knew they’d stare.

But it seemed his elder brother wasn’t going to accept his excuse. “C’mon, it’ll just take a minute,” Fili said, tugging at Kili’s hand. Kili had never been able to overpower his brother to begin with, and lying about, the younger Dwarf had lost a lot of his strength, so, despite his reservations, Kili found himself being drawn out of bed, his crutches shoved under his arms. Over the last weeks, Fili, with the help of various members of the company, had improved upon the crutches, making them sturdier and more comfortable for Kili to use. Thus far, only Fili had seen the results, however. Not even Thorin could stand to be in the room to watch him struggle.

“Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Kili said when he realized his resistance was futile. “No need to yank my arm off.” Fili nodded and led him to the entrance of the mountain. Just steps from the door, the older dwarf let go of his brother’s arm and dashed outside. Kili’s heart fell. Of course they were going out. He knew this day would come, he’d just hoped it would take a little longer to get there. He took a deep breath and stepped into the sunlight, to be immediately set upon by raucous cheering. It seemed the entire company was gathered just outside, and every one of them was happy to see Kili.

The young dwarf stared around the semicircle surrounding him, shock on his features. He’d expected his brother and uncle to be happy to see him up and about, but he’d only known a few of the others before starting out on this quest. That they’d be happy enough to celebrate him simply getting out of bed was astonishing. Then the crowd parted in front of him and his lips spread in a huge smile as he saw a large buck roasting over a bonfire. So this was what the others had been up to all day.

Thorin and Fili each grabbed one of his arms and dragged Kili forward, faster than he could move himself, depositing him on a fallen log near the fire. The other’s followed while Thorin cut a huge chunk of meat out of the buck’s flank and thrust it into his nephew’s hand. It was nearly too hot to hold, but it was the first fresh meat they’d had in a fortnight. After Kili had been served, the others swarmed the buck, disregarding the heat in their haste.

Kili realized that the others’ jovial moods might have as much to do with the fresh meat as with seeing him up and about for the first time in weeks. Regardless of the reason, he found the mood infectious, and it wasn’t long before he was joining in the revelry. That is, until he caught Ori staring at where his leg should be. Instantly, he felt his mood fall. He wanted to return to the tent, hide from their prying eyes. But when Fili and Thorin had pulled him forward, they’d left his crutches out of his reach. His brother and uncle were both off socializing with the other members of the company. Kili’s unwillingness to ask anyone else for help, coupled with his refusal to hop over to his crutches meant he was stuck out there until one of his family members came close enough.

Ori looked away after a moment, and Kili tried to arrange his coat in such a way as to disguise his deformity. Even so, he endured three more rounds of staring before Thorin finally got close enough for Kili to discreetly wave him over. “I’m getting tired,” he said with an exaggerated yawn. “Can you help me back inside?”

“Of course,” Thorin said with a nod before carefully hauling Kili to his feet. “It’s good to see you smile again, sister-son,” the king said softly. “We have all missed your smile.”

Kili waited until they were inside the entrance hall before asking, “I’ll never be a warrior now, will I?”

Thorin was silent for several seconds before finally answering, “It’s not likely. But there’s more to life than fighting.”

“You’re a warrior,” the younger Dwarf said stubbornly. “Everyone out there can fight, and I can’t even walk.” His voice broke at the end of the sentence, and Thorin looked over to see how devastated his nephew looked. He stopped and eased the younger Dwarf down onto one of the benches lining the hall, kneeling before him.

“Listen to me, Kili,” the king said quietly. “I know you feel like less of a man without your leg, but things will get better.”

“I don’t want things to get better!” Kili yelled. “I want my leg!” 

Thorin’s eyes narrowed as his nephew lost his temper. “Regardless of what you want,” he said slowly, trying to keep his own temper in check, “this is what you have. You helped retake our home, and your name will go down in legend for what you’ve done. And need I remind you, not everyone who came on this quest is a warrior.”

“But they could fight when the time came,” Kili protested. “If we get attacked, I’m Warg bait.”

“If I were stupid enough to put you in the thick of things, I’d deserve the wrath of your mother,” Thorin said, clapping his nephew on the shoulder. “You’re the best archer we have. You’d be high up the mountain where you can shoot any foolish enough to try to take our home again.” Thorin helped the younger dwarf stand again, though they didn’t start walking yet. “Is this why you wanted to come back inside?”

Kili was silent for a long time, looking off to the side. Finally he replied, “They stare at it.”

“And when they do, they see the sacrifice you made for our people,” Thorin answered, leading his nephew back outside. “It’s a badge of honor, and you should wear it as such.”

“Uncle, I don’t want to go back out there,” the younger Dwarf protested when he saw Thorin’s destination. 

“No nephew of mine is going to sulk inside when there’s fresh meat and a good party outside.” Kili sighed, but there was nothing he could do to truly resist. His foot slid across the floor as Thorin tugged him along with shameful ease. On the off chance he was able to pull his arm from his uncle’s grip, he’d still be faced with the prospect of getting away on one leg, with his crutches still outside. “Tonight, we move you into your permanent room,” Thorin said in a voice that brooked no argument. “No more hiding out in the closet between mine and your brother’s. And tomorrow, you’re going to start going to the shooting range every day. By the time your mother shows up, you’re going to be back to your old self.”

Kili groaned softly. His amad was coming. He could already hear her reaction to finding him wounded. Thorin and Fili would likely bear the brunt of her anger, but he knew he’d be a target as well. “Does she know about my leg?” he asked softly as they stepped outside.

“No,” Thorin replied after a brief hesitation. “I sent a message calling her here, and told her you’d been wounded, but that we were all alive. She won’t be happy when she finds out, but it’s preferable to telling her in a message.” Kili couldn’t help but agree as his uncle eased him back down on to the log he’d been sitting on earlier. 

Roughly half of the company could play an instrument, and they’d pulled them out to play a lively tune. Those that weren’t playing were singing along. It was Kili’s favorite song, which couldn’t be a coincidence, and after a few lines, he started singing along. A few of the other dwarves looked his way, but none stared this time. He nearly missed the subtle glance between his brother and uncle, followed by a tiny nod from Thorin. He didn’t have to guess what it meant.

#

That night, just as Thorin ordered, Kili moved back into the room he’d taken before the battle. It was nowhere near as stuffy as the sickroom he’d been in, and much larger. It also had an actual bed, rather than a stone shelf carved into the mountain. That was likely to aid in his healing process. He sank into a plush chair and looked around. The larger room would most certainly force him to get some practice in on the crutches. Which he would need if he were to have any hope of moving around normally by the time his amad got there.

But for now, all he wanted to do was rest. The activity of the day had left him exhausted, but elated. He’d made it from the sickroom to the feast, and back up to his room by himself. It was the most he’d walked since losing his leg. Maybe Thorin was right. Maybe things really would get better.


End file.
